Page 37 of The Anguish of the Scottish Lairds
“I’m leaving. Get out of my way.”
He grinned and shook his head, his dirty brown hair sticking to his neck. He grabbed both of her hands and pinned them behind her back, forcing her into the back of the stall. “There’s a nice pile of straw here that will suit us perfectly. Relax. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Enjoy what?”
His mouth descended on hers in a sloppy kiss that she hated. She closed her lips tight, but he stopped and said, “Don’t fight me or you’ll regret it. Open your mouth.” He tried to kiss her again, and she did what he asked, opening her mouth and biting his lip, drawing blood. That infuriated him. “You bitch.”
She screamed, hoping someone would come to her aid. “Jasper! Help me! Someone help!” He slapped her hard, then covered her mouth with one hand while he knocked her legs out from under her, pinning her to the ground, her arms behind her back. He fell on her, his weight knocking the breath from her belly, and she felt as if she were choking, unable to breathe. She shook her head, fighting as much as she could. She bit his hand, and he punched her, hard enough that her vision blurred.
Scream. Fight.
She kicked as hard as she could, tried to free both of her arms, but she couldn’t reach anything but air. When she finally had her breath back, she knocked her head against his, givingherself the few seconds she had to scream, and she let out the loudest scream she could.
His hands ripped at her riding skirt, tearing the fabric as his hand scratched her leg while he fumbled with his own trews. He held her head down and she screamed into his hand, her screams now turning to sobs. But then she fainted.
When she came to, the bastard still held her down, panting oddly. Then his weight suddenly lifted from her, and he flew over her horse’s back. She found her footing, fixing her skirt and pushing up against the wall in fear, blood on her skirt and her hands. She wiped the blood onto her gown, not knowing where it had come from. What had happened?
Sloan had the man by the throat. “I’ll kill you. How dare you touch her!” He let go of him and landed three or four punches to the man’s face and belly.
She’d never seen Sloan so mad. Trying to stand, her legs buckled beneath her and her head hit the side of the stable, the sound echoing across the stall. Her poor horse moved about, attempting to rear, unable to understand what was happening. Confused, Eva fell back against the wall again, trying to stand upright, but failing.
“Eva!” Sloan was there in a second, picking her up and carrying her out of the stall. The man took off, heading out the rear of the stables.
Sloan held her tightly, but she fought him, fearing the fool was waiting for her just outside the door. “Don’t let him touch me again. He’ll hurt me. Please, Sloan. Don’t let him near me.”
“Hush, he’ll not touch you again.” Then he turned to Jasper, who was coming down the row of stalls, and shouted, “Go after the bastard!”
Jasper appeared behind Sloan, took one look at the situation, and bellowed, “Chief! You’re needed here.” Then hetold the lads to get everyone else out of the stable. “Who was it, Rankin?”
“I didn’t know him. Go after him,” Sloan said. “Eva, who is he?”
She shook her head, her hands clinging to Sloan’s arms, afraid to let him go. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen him before.” She buried her face in Sloan’s shoulder just as she heard her brother’s voice.
“Shite. What the hell happened to my sister? Who did this, Sloan? Eva, who hurt you?”
She sobbed and sobbed, her hands clutching Sloan because she never wanted to leave his safe embrace.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Sloan
Sloan had to calm himself down.
“She passed out, Lennox. I don’t know who the hell he was. I landed a few punches, but he got away. Your sister hit her head, fainted, her horse tried to rear, and I was more worried about her, so I let him go to catch her. He escaped out the back door.”
Sloan settled her in his arms, noticing the blood on her gown at the same time as Lennox did. His friend’s face turned furious, and he wisely rearranged her skirts so the blood wouldn’t show.
“My thanks to you, Sloan. We’ll get her into her bedchamber, and I’ll find my mother and have her send for Doiron. Say naught to anyone.”
Sloan carried her inside, focusing on her face because she seemed to go in and out of consciousness. Lennox stood behind him, making sure no one got close. “Who, Sloan? Who was he? What plaid?”
“No plaid. Dirty hair and clothing. Never seen him before. Dark tunic and trews. We’ll see what Jasper says. Someone else must have seen him leave.”
They entered the keep, Rut’s face paling when she saw her daughter. “What happened?”
Lennox said, “We’ll update you in her chamber. Get Doiron now.”
Meg came out of the kitchens and gasped. “I’ll bring fresh water and linens.”
